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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565796">Lush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorinoakenbutt/pseuds/thorinoakenbutt'>thorinoakenbutt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXIVWrite2020 prompts [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Flirting, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Pre-Relationship, Self-Harm, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unresolved Sexual Tension, everyone else is a very minor character, tbh this is mostly about the Exarch and WoL</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:14:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorinoakenbutt/pseuds/thorinoakenbutt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Definition of lush<br/>1: growing vigorously, especially with luxuriant foliage<br/>2: opulent, sumptuous<br/>3: (slang) intoxicating liquor : a habitual heavy drinker</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXIVWrite2020 prompts [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Scions had returned to the Crystarium, the conquering heroes after their latest victory over the Lightwarden in Amh Araeng. Though instead of accompanying his fellows to debrief with the Crystal Exarch and discuss their plans for Kholusia, E’andhris had been sent to bed by Y’shtola like an errant kit. His own mother had doled out similar punishments whenever he’d explored a little too for from home as an actual child. </p><p>He stalked angrily towards the Pendants, feeling frustrated by his lack of control over the Light he carried within him. His pride was likewise scuffed at being treated as though he were <em>fragile</em> by Y’shtola and Ryne, though the concerned look in the young girl’s eyes especially haunted him. He really must be in deep shit this time. Beyond that...Minfilia. </p><p>Seeing his dear, old friend again had ripped open the barely healed wound of losing her to begin with. She’d been among the first of the Scions to make him feel truly welcomed among them. A sister in all but blood, ripped from his grasp thrice over. </p><p><em>Fuck</em>. He needed a bath and a drink, and he didn’t care in what order they came in. Although...the Wandering Stairs just so happened to be on the way to the Pendants, so technically he wouldn’t be <em>entirely</em> disobeying Y’shtola’s strict orders by making a detour. He swung right, up the stairs, and leaned his elbows against the counter. </p><p>Darlfort took one look at him and gave a sympathetic wince. “You look like shit, lad,” the galdjent said, bending to grab something from beneath the counter. “You’ll be wanting something strong, I’m assuming?” At E’andhris’ eager nod, Darlfort placed a large bottle down with a clink. The Warrior recognized the label from his early days in Norvrandt, playing delivery boy. </p><p>“Much obliged,” E’andhris replied as cheerfully as he could force. He reached for the liquor, cradling it gingerly in the crook of his arm as he dug into his coin purse. Before he could pull out a single gil, Darlfort snorted and gave the miqo’te a look. Shrugging, E’andhris turned to take his leave. Blast the Crystal Exarch for taking such good care of his <em>special guest</em> that E’andhris couldn’t even pay for his own booze while within the Crystarium’s bounds. </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p>It turned out that E’andhris wasn’t able to enjoy his liquor immediately. He’d returned to Ardbert waiting for him, and then his...condition flared up. He was only glad that he’d managed to get the bottle onto the table before the Light within him bubbled to the surface, bringing him with a cry to his knees. He’d barely registered Ardbert running to his side through the pain. He felt the tingling sensation of the hume’s heavy hand upon his arm and suddenly his vision cleared, and he could draw breath again. The men stared at each other in shock, then Ardbert made a hasty retreat, muttering some nonsense about not being a hero. </p><p>Left alone, it was harder to ignore. The panic. E’andhris uncorked the liquor with his teeth as he undressed and filled the small bathtub with steaming water. He spat the cork somewhere on the floor uncaring of where it ended up. He took a large swig of the drink as he stepped into water hot enough to turn his skin red on contact, and he almost coughed at the harsh burn the alcohol left in its wake. It had been far too long since he last imbibed, clearly. The smell alone made him dizzy. Placing the bottle on the floor beside the tub, he sank into the water up to his ears, holding his breath and counting to ten. </p><p><em>Soon</em>, he thought, Soon they’d travel to Kholusia and Ryne would be able to pinpoint the precise location of the final Lightwarden. Soon, he’d slay the monstrosity, bringing night back to Norvrandt for good, and then...what? The Exarch had the utmost faith in his ability to hold all of the Light within himself, without issue, though that clearly wasn’t the case. Perhaps he would finally die, having cheated death one too many times. His panic clawed its way from his chest, though E’andhris shoved it back down, chasing it with another large mouthful of liquor. Now was not the time to lose it. </p><p>Taking a third sip, he began to furiously scrub at his skin and scalp. Time to focus on what he could control, such as freeing himself of the sand and grit of Amh Araeng. By the time he was finished, his skin burned from the harsh treatment, but the pain had served its purpose of helping him to center himself. Hauling himself out of the now tepid, filthy water, he glanced at his bed. <em>Absolutely not</em>. </p><p>Instead of retiring to bed like he knew he should, he dressed in the himation and sarouel he’d been fond of wearing on the Source, and gently folded the robes he’d received from the Night’s Blessed for later laundering. Slipping into his simple leather shoes, he grabbed the liquor once more and fled from the suite into the cool night air. </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p>The Exarch knocked on the door to E’andhris’ chambers and waited more than a little anxiously. He rubbed absently at his crystallized arm at the prolonged silence, and hoped he wouldn’t have to wake the Warrior. When the Scions had come to meet him in the Ocular without E’andhris in their company, his mood had fallen. With the group leaving for Kholusia soon, he’d hoped to spend more time with the tall miqo’te mage, against his better judgement. </p><p>But when Y’shtola and the newly named Ryne made their entrance with worriedly pensive expressions, his heart caught in his throat. As they explained about the Warrior’s struggle to contain the Light after Storge’s defeat, his alarm rose. Every ilm of his body urged him to end the meeting and run the distance between the tower and E’andhris’ room, to throw himself at his feet, and beg for his forgiveness for putting him through such pain. Instead, he kept his face schooled into polite concern. He made excuse after sickening, riddle of an excuse in the face of their worry for their dear friend. </p><p>After all, he would soon fix this fine mess that he’d created of their lives. </p><p>In the present, his sandaled foot tapped an impatient beat on the tiles of the Pendants’ hallway. He decided to knock a little louder, and waited once more. Still no answer. Pressing gently on the door, the Exarch was surprised when it opened with the softest of creaks. He warily stepped into the dark room, glancing this way and that. The Warrior wasn’t here, though signs of him were. The astringent scent of <em>strong</em> alcohol lingered in the air, mixing with the humidity of a hot bath. The flimsy blue, feathered robes that E’andhris had taken to wearing on the First lay folded on the end of his bed, though his shorts and myriad of accessories lay scattered over the floor. </p><p><em>So come and gone</em>, the Exarch mused. But where would the mage have gone at this late hour? He made a note to ask the staff to ensure that E’andhris’ robes were gently washed of the grime from the desert, as he left to search for his wayward Warrior. </p><p>-----------------------------------</p><p>A bell and a half had passed, and the Exarch grew more frantic in his searching. Surely, E’andhris wouldn’t be so foolish to leave the city in his state, on his own, in the middle of the night. <em>Surely</em>. Perhaps if he told himself that several more times, he’d believe it. For as long as he’d known the Warrior, he had been headstrong and painfully self-sufficient. Ever one to shoulder others’ burdens without a care for his own. </p><p>It was one of the things that first drew him to the man. A true hero. Now it was the cause of his headache. With a great sigh, the Exarch began to make the ascent up the watchtower - his favorite place in the Crystarium when he wished to just <em>exist</em>. His hope was that he’d be able to somehow spot E’andhris if he had indeed made the trek into Lakeland. If not, then to the Ocular he’d go to scry upon the troublesome mage. However the thought was dismissed as he heard faint...singing? </p><p>The Exarch forced his legs to carry him more quickly to the top and paused, breathless from exertion, when he finally found his Warrior. He sat precariously on the edge of the platform with his legs dangling off into the open air. The hooded man let out another sigh - this time of relief - as his feet carried him hurriedly to E’andhris’ side. </p><p>He reeked of the same scent he’d caught in the Pendants, and his eyes easily found the culprit clutched in the Warrior’s hand. A bottle of the Wandering Stair’s finest, three-fourths of the way finished. “Oh, E’andhris,” he breathed sadly, settling down beside the thoroughly soused hero with a soft grunt of exertion. </p><p>“Exarch!” the other miqo’te cried, throwing his arms wide in an exuberant greeting. Those arms came around him tightly in a friendly embrace, taking the Exarch by surprise. The Warrior was in a <em>good</em> mood, then. </p><p>E’andhris’ strawberry blonde hair was down, damp yet from his bath. In all his time in Norvrandt, the Warrior had kept it pulled back from his face in a charming little ponytail, with silver pins holding back errant strands. Seeing it loose brought back memories of <em>before</em>. It was...distracting. </p><p>He cleared his throat. “What are you doing all the way up here, E’andhris? Are you all right?” he asked, tamping down the urge to reach out and brush a lock of the Warrior’s hair away from his cheek. His hand made an aborted attempt anyway. Instead, he redirected it to pluck the bottle from E’andhris’ hand and placed it far out of reach. </p><p>“I needed some air,” the Warrior replied blandly, his blue and brown eyes settling more than a little unfocused on what little of the Exarch’s face he could see. He flinched when E’andhris’ now empty hand shot out to trace the crystal curled along his cheek in a decidedly intimate caress. “The Light started hurting again.”</p><p>The Exarch took a deep, calming breath and gently wrapped his hand around E’andhris’ wrist to pull his touch away - an act that took no small amount of will. “Does it yet pain you or has it passed?” he asked, a traitorous finger caressing against the skin of the Warrior’s soft palm. E’andhris let out a soft gasp and twisted out of his grasp, instead twining their fingers together. That...wasn’t better. </p><p>“’S better now,” E’andhris replied, slurring his words as he scooted closer to lay his head on top of the Exarch’s cowl. He let his breath out in a hiss through his teeth, urging himself to move away from the display of affection. Instead, he leaned against his friend’s side. E’andhris began to purr in delight, and the sound went straight to the Exarch’s loins. </p><p>“Thank goodness for that. I would not wish to see you suffer,” he whispered, damning himself further as he wrapped his spoken arm around E’andhris’ trim waist to hold him closer. He forced himself to give the speech he had intended to present to the Warrior in his chambers. “You <em>must</em> survive this, no matter what.”</p><p>The Warrior nodded, clearly only half listening. He nuzzled against the fabric of the hood beneath his cheek, and the Exarch was never happier in that moment that he kept it enchanted to stay in place. “Exarch...” E’andhris breathed, and he leaned in to listen. “When I kill the last Warden, will your work finally be done?”</p><p>“Yes, I believe it will,” the Exarch replied after a short pause. He steeled himself to push through the half-truth. “Once the tyranny of Light is ended, the people of the Crystarium will be safe, and the future that must be shall come to pass.”</p><p>E’andhris gave a happy hum, bunting against the Exarch in a move so loving that it brought tears to his crimson eyes. “That will be nice. We should do something fun after everything,” the Warrior said, his gaze somewhere between the hooded man’s nose and chin. “There’s those hot springs our in Lakeland. I bet one word from the <em>Crystal Exarch</em> would see them vacated for a private occasion.” His tone was playful, flirtatious even, and each word twisted the knife in the Exarch’s heart further. </p><p>“I’ll see what I can do,” he found himself promising. “For now, though, we should get you to your bed.” E’andhris gave a sound of dissent, and the Exarch had to drag him to his feet. The tall miqo’te dissolved into giggles when he realized his legs refused to hold himself up reliably. In spite of himself, a fond smile found its way to the Exarch’s lips. </p><p>“You’re <em>very</em> strong,” E’andhris cooed, as he wrapped an arm around the Exarch’s shoulders in an effort to keep himself upright. They began to make their very slow descent from the top of the tower. The caretaker had to grab hold of E’andhris’ waist firmly with both arms to keep him from listing too far one direction or the other. </p><p>“You’re very <em>drunk</em>, E’andhris,” the Exarch responded with a snort. He started as he felt the Warrior’s thumb tip his head up to face his. His friend was looking at his lips, he realized with alarming clarity. </p><p>“And you’re incredibly pretty. Has anyone ever told you that, o’ Crystal Exarch?”</p><p>The Exarch quickened their pace as they reached the ground. He needed to get his inebriated hero to bed, and not in the way his lower half was desiring. He felt a lecherous old man, that he even found E’andhris appealing in such a state. “I may have heard it once or twice in my many years,” he gritted out. He forced himself to ignore E’andhris’ increasingly wandering hands as they made their way towards the Pendants. He only hoped the manager wasn’t there to witness whatever was happening between the two of them. </p><p>The gods must have finally decided to smile upon him for the first time that night, for the lobby was empty when they arrived. E’andhris began to fumble for his key, and the Exarch rolled his saccharine eyes from beneath the gloom of his hood. “There’s no need for that. You left your room unlocked in your <em>grand escape</em>,” he grumped. The Warrior had the decency to look mildly ashamed at that, at least. He dragged the taller man into the room and dumped him on the bed, intending to make a quick getaway, when the mage grabbed his crystallized wrist and <em>pulled</em>. </p><p>The Exarch stumbled, thrown off balance, and braced himself on the bed hovering over top of the Warrior who grinned like a lovestruck fool. “You could stay,” he whispered in a tone the Exarch had never thought to hear with his own ears. E’andhris stretched out beneath him in a way that send levin straight to his already hardened cock. <em>Seven hells</em>. </p><p>“<em>No</em>,” he gasped forcefully, scrambling to his feet and putting several fulms between them. He should leave. He should leave <em>right now</em>. Then E’andhris pouted, and the Exarch opened his mouth to comfort him, to his complete horror. “I would not have our first time be one that you forget.” </p><p>He clapped crystal hand over his mouth hard, likely bruising his lips in the process. E’andhris gazed up at him, surprised but with half hooded eyes of obvious interest. The Exarch turned and rushed from the room before he could hear whatever witty retort his inspiration could come up with to convince him to set aside his rapidly deteriorating defenses. He could only hope that E’andhris truly did forget this come morning light.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My wife was like "Oh your prompt today is 'lush'? That could be fun for some steamy stuff." Haha, yeah :)</p><p>My WoL's reaction to trauma is basically John Mulaney's "I'll keep all my emotions right here. And then one day, I'll die" quote.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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